With Amber Eyes and Painted Wings
by Ameliapoand
Summary: Lyna Mahariel returns to camp after a secret suicide mission that involved searching for Tamlen as well as a whole lot of darkspawn. Unfortunately, she does not escape unscathed and faces a life and death situation back at home. Can Alistiar and Wynne save her in time? Takes place after the events of "Bloodshed." Oneshot involving lots of angst and drama.


"Our fearless leader returns!"

Alistair stalked toward me, a large and beautiful grin on his face. He ran a hand through his cropped, golden hair, pink blush coloring his cheeks as he did so. He was still _so_ shy.

As he neared me, Alistair very obviously picked up his pace so that he was standing before me, breathing hard and excitedly and perfectly.

But... he was also staring to get blurry.

"Welcome home, darling." He spoke quietly, reaching out and touching my waist with long fingers.

"Alistair..." I grunted in pain and clutched my side. Alistair jolted in shock and let go of me, flinching away in response. I saw coffee painted eyes searching my face until finally, his gaze dropped lower and he saw what must have been my tainted skin covered in blood and gore. I knew that I looked awful because I sure felt like it, and his lips parted with an audible sound as he inhaled sharply at the sight. Just watching him made me feel sleepy. I was suddenly more aware of my bruise colored skin, the ichor of dozens of darkspawn already soaking through my armor. My body was aching like fire, and I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I didn't really want to, either. I was heavy.

So, so heavy.

Closing my eyelids in defeat, I then felt myself fall forward.

"Wynne!" Alistair shouted.

His warm arms enveloped me as my body collided with his, and I felt him cradle me to his chest as he pleaded for me to keep my eyes open. I wanted to for him, but I was just too tired. I was tired and weak and blackness started to edge all along my vision, like a filter. It was soft and calm and almost pleasurable, so I welcomed it. I let myself slip into oblivion then, anticipating the rest that I would finally receive from being released of all of my Warden duties.

Peacefulness.

I dreamed strange dreams in the Fade then. I must have drifted in and out of consciousness a few times, because at one point, I remember the sound of Alistair's breathing as he led me somewhere warm and comfortable. Someone's hands started on my body as well, bringing about a myriad of curious sensations. It got very cold then. So cold that I started screaming. I kept on screaming too, until I slipped back into the Fade one more time.

"Lyna!"

Someone was calling me. It sounded like Alistair, except more hoarse. More... desperate.

"Lyna, stop! Please, open your eyes! Please!"

Yes, it was him. His voice sounded thick, like he was trying not to cry. Why would he cry? I was finally happy! No... he shouldn't be suffering like this. Who was hurting him? And, why?

"Yes... that's it! Do you hear me, Lyna? Lyna, I love you. Please. Please..."

I love you too, Alistair. I wanted to see him. Where was he? I could sense him somewhere. He was all around me, but I couldn't reach him. So warm... Alistair was always so warm. His warmth seemed to counter against the coldness torturing me. Yes – the ice was melting away now. I could feel him.

"Lyna..."

"Alistair?" My tongue felt heavy and awkward.

"It's me, darling. It's me. Can you hear me, love? You're alright. You're going to be alright." He said this with such a fierceness in his voice that it made me wonder as to why he was trying to convince.

"Where are you? I... I can't see you."

"Wynne, what's wrong with her? Why can't she see? "

"Wynne?" She was here, too?

I then felt a cool hand mechanically stroke my forehead, causing me to shudder in blind confusion.

"Yes, child. I am right here. Give her a minute to recover, Alistair. She's endured Maker knows what."

Wynne sounded tired. No... she sounded drained. Her hand started to tremble upon my skin.

"What's happening? What's happened to me?" My voice came out pitifully, as a small whisper.

I felt Alistair's warm hand gently brush some hair back away from my face before he dropped it to hold my own in his.

"You were injured when you returned to camp, Lyna. It was... bad. You fainted, and then you wouldn't wake up. You kept..." he trailed off, taking a deep breath, and I squeezed his hand as hard as I could. "You kept screaming and thrashing around and..."

"Alistair." Wynne's firm voice came out both as a command, but also like a warning.

"Right. Um... well, I shouted for Wynne and she... she saved you, Lyna."

Guilt abruptly washed over me like the blanket I felt one of them suddenly drape over my body. It stilled my shivers and soothed the aches that they were causing.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured out loud – though to whom I was speaking to was a mystery. "How long was I unconscious?"

Alistair sighed once more. "It's been about a full hour since your return."

A full hour?

The guilt intensified even more.

"Lyna," Wynne then interrupted. "Try opening your eyes, again."

They were stiff, but I felt my eyelids flutter with the strain of that I commanded them. They both opened as words of encouragement flowed from her tired lips, allowing me to see her pale, kind face hovering before mine. She smiled genuinely, as if she was pleased at my progress.

"Wynne... I - " I didn't know what to say. What could I? Thanks for fixing my mistake? Thanks for saving me from my near, accidental suicide mission?

Even when I had already given up?

"I..."

Great. Now I was stuttering.

It seemed like she could already sense my distress. Shaking her head briskly, Wynne smiled again and pecked me gingerly on the forehead.

"Now is not the time for explanations," she soothed, "Though you best be prepared to have them for when you are ready. Rest, and we shall talk tomorrow when you are better." She wearily got to her feet and quietly nodded to Alistair before exiting what looked to be like my tent.

"Alistair?"

I felt tired again.

"I'm still here." I turned my head to the side and saw him kneeling beside me, an anxious expression plastered all over his face. The muscles in his jaw were twitching considerably, and he was breathing unevenly, drawing in shaky, rattling breaths. Glassy eyes surveyed my face as I searched his for some hint that he was possibly angry or upset with me, but all I saw was worry and utter terror reflecting back into my gaze. I couldn't bear it.

In one fluid movement, I shirked off the blanket that covered me and darted into his arms. He smelled like wood and fire and soap and I threw my desperate arms around his neck before pressing my nose up against his jaw. I felt him immediately respond by burying his hands on my long curls. He exhaled sharply and rocked us slowly together so that our body heat and our breathing became one. This was right. This was where I was supposed to be. Always. Just me and him. Just the two of us, fighting for our lives in this Creator-forsaken world.

And for everyone else, as well.

When our urgency started to fade, Alistair gently drew me away from him and pressed his lips to mine.

My blood, always so responsive to him, began to boil in my veins as I kissed him back, feeling our lips mold together as hot tears freely flowed down my cheeks. It must have startled him because he pulled away, wordlessly releasing me so that he could wipe them with his fingertips.

"I'm sorry," I said blankly, almost hollow. His swirling eyes briefly flickered up to mine for a moment, and he kissed me again, hard this time, even forceful. I suppose that this wasn't the time for talking, just as Wynne had said. No... the shameful explanations would come in the morning when all of us were more rested and coherent. So, for now, I just let myself feel, and I held Alistair tighter to me, using the back of his neck as an anchor as the kiss deepened into something more ardent and emotional. Alistair was everything. He was my ocean, and I was drowning in him – yet nothing had ever felt more honest than these kinds of moments we were able to spare. I crushed myself closer to him and felt his body immediately go rigid.

"Lyna..." Suddenly, Alistair was blushing furiously and he ducked his face away, turning his eyes in another direction.

"What...?" And then I felt it. I was cold again. Finally looking down, I saw my snowy white skin staring up at me, whole, un-broken, and exposed. I was completely naked save for the cloths tied around my chest and waist, and was also stained with the blood of the darkspawn I'd ambushed earlier. In response, I yanked my arms away from the still blushing prince in font of me and hastily wrapped them around myself.

"I'm... unclothed...?" That was meant to come out as a statement, but had sounded more like a question if anything else.

With a slight smirk on his flushed face, Alistair adjusted himself so that he was able to pull off his tunic. He gave it to me as I still sat confused in his lap, leaving his chest bare and uncovered. I couldn't help but marvel at his flawless body, all sculpted and corded with muscle.

Alistair cleverly managed to avoid everything but my eyes as I shrugged the giant article of clothing over my head, allowing him to sort my hair out as he spoke.

"You were bleeding heavily from all areas. Wynne had you cut out of your armor so she could tend to your wounds. Whatever you were fighting had managed to disfigure the shape of the leather and so it was stuck on you pretty badly. But, we gave it to Bodahn and he's probably repairing it as we speak. It should be finished soon." Alistair then hesitated, running another hand through his hair. "I... I didn't look. I couldn't." His cheeks started flaming again.

Smiling sadly, I pressed a kiss against his cheek and felt the heat from his blush warm my lips.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that, but I'm glad you did."

Alistair shrugged, surveying me studiously in his shirt. "I know. But I respect you. And... I love you. It wouldn't have been right." Meeting my gaze again, he bit his lip. I was just so scared. You have... no idea what it was like to see you like that. You almost died, you almost... _you wouldn't stop screaming_."

As his voice broke off into something that resembled a whimper, I scooting out of his lap and carefully got to my feet, feeling the tunic slide over my thighs. Already so tall, Alistair seemed to tower over me because of my elven heritage, though I was rather tall for a woman. With newly wet eyes, he followed suit and smirked slightly at me, probably because of what I assumed to be my disheveled appearance. I knew I would have to answer for my actions later, but they all seemed irrelevant now as Alistair leaned forward and brushed his lips over mine, securing me closer that my shoulders pressed against his collar bones. They were just like him: warm and perfect.

We stayed like that for awhile, my head resting against his chest and listening to the sound of his heart beat all the while his hands alternated between rubbing my back and twirling my hair around.

It was nice.


End file.
